Of Grounds and Tea Leaves
by InkwellRaven
Summary: RobRae Week 2019 writing prompt "Coffee vs Tea" All Raven wanted to do was enjoy a hot cup of her favorite tea on a miserable day. Why is it that Robin's presence always seemed to make that so difficult of a task? Soon she finds herself in a . . . heated debate about which of their preferred beverages was the better choice.


Legalities: I do not own or own rights to the Teen Titans.

O • O • O • O

Raven sat on the stool at the counter, pursing her lips to blow on the hot tea in the mug before her. She hummed as the steam swirled up and coiled around her face, warming her after their freezing encounter with Cinderblock on the rainy streets of Jump just an hour before.

_Just because the rain doesn't affect _his _skin doesn't mean _we_ needed to suffer_, she thought bitterly as she wrapped her hands around the mug in an effort to warm them.

A shudder rippled through her body. She had changed into dry clothes but she couldn't shake the chill that still seemed to permeate her skin. She felt something heavy land on her shoulders and started, looking up surprised to see Robin standing beside her before he moved around the counter to the coffee pot. She turned her head and saw that he had draped his cape around her shoulders. It smelled of him, coffee and something earthy that she could not place, and she shook her head quickly and returned her attention to the tea before her.

_Why the hell am I thinking about what he smells like?_ she chastised herself.

_Why do you like it so much?_ a part of her retorted.

A spoon on the counter spun across the room and clattered to the floor before sliding under the couch. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm her fluctuating emotions. She was so irritated at the cold that had seeped into her bones that she was starting to lose focus and control. She opened her eyes when she felt she had settled and saw Robin looking at her from across the counter, one of his eyebrows raised.

"Are you okay?" he asked, having clearly noticed the little incident with the spoon.

She held her head in her hand, thumb and forefinger at her temples and elbow resting on the counter, and shook her head.

"Sorry. It's this damn chill that I can't seem to shake," she mumbled. "Cinderblock is _not_ going to have a good day if I ever see him again."

Robin let out a small laugh and turned back to the coffee pot now gurgling away as it brewed. Their interchanges had been so familiar and comfortable these last few months. She couldn't really put a finger on what changed or when, but they now found themselves bantering and joking in a way that she had never done with anyone before. It was refreshing, but it left her confused about how she felt about their friendship now. She was growing too attached for her liking. And he was becoming far too familiar with her for her to stay comfortably detached. It was the little things like reassuring touches to her shoulder, little jokes between them, and familiar gestures one usually shares with someone they're close to . . . like laying his cape on her shoulders.

"Yeah, I saw you shiver when I came in. Figured you must be miserable if you didn't even notice me enter the room."

She had been pondering her lack of observation too. Just another thing that was bothering her.

"Thanks for this, by the way," she said after a time, looking up and pulling the cape tighter around her shoulders. "Every little bit helps, I suppose."

He looked over his shoulder to see her tug at his cape. "My pleasure," he said as he turned back to pour his coffee.

Raven dropped both her hands to the counter and cocked her head as she stared at him.

_Did he just _smirk_ before he turned back around?_ she thought. She'd only ever seen him smirk in battle if he was particularly proud of himself or the team. This one was more . . . devious, and she couldn't shake being unnerved by it.

He turned back to face her, holding his mug in his one hand. He walked around the counter and came to stand beside her, leaning his back against the counter as he took a sip and sighed in pleasure at the taste.

Raven saw the black liquid in his cup and wrinkled her nose.

Robin chuckled at the almost child-like look as he took another sip.

"Not a coffee fan, Raven?"

"Not black," she responded, taking a sip of her tea as if to prove her point. "Too bitter for my tastes."

"Says the girl who drinks, literally, bitter leaves soaked in water."

Raven held out her cup so Robin could see the creamy liquid inside.

"Herbal tea is nice, but earl grey is my favorite. In the way of the English, with milk and sugar."

He could smell the tea as she held it in front of him and he smiled at her.

"Actually, that smells really nice," he said.

She lifted a delicate brow at his admission and tipped her head toward her mug as she held it closer to him in invitation.

He took the mug from her and kept eye contact as he took a sip, which she found unnerving, though not in the least unpleasant.

"Hmm," he hummed as he handed the cup back to her, "that _is_ really good."

A small smile crossed her face as she took the cup back from him and took another sip herself.

"But still not as good as coffee," he said, drinking from his cup again.

"If you say so," she said, setting her cup on the counter.

"Here," he said, handing her his mug, a ghost of a smile on his face as he wondered whether she would take his challenge. She wrinkled her nose disdainfully again and looked up at him, not moving to take the proffered cup.

"It's a good blend," he assured her, jiggling the mug a little. "Subtle notes of vanilla and spices. Who knows? You might find that you like it."

She took the cup skeptically and lifted it to her lips. She could smell the brew and had to admit it didn't smell bitter or burned in the least. She took a sip and felt the warmth trickle down her throat.

"Huh," she said as she handed it back, admiring the smooth and rich flavor that had surprised her. "Actually not that bad. No earl grey, though."

His fingers brushed hers as he took the mug back and she realized for the first time that he had removed his gloves to brew his drink. The contact sent a shiver down her spine that was unrelated to the cold and as her hand jerked she was certain she would have dropped the mug if he hadn't been holding on to it. She turned back to her own cup and clasped it firmly in both hands, so he wouldn't see them tremble.

She cursed herself. She had always been able to keep her blossoming feelings for him to herself, something she only had to face in Nevermore when her emotion-selves would often confront her about it. But the chill in her was so distracting today and she hadn't meditated since the day before and he was standing _so_ close. The skin contact had pushed it to the limit and she stood suddenly, realizing her need to meditate to collect herself. She dropped and abandoned her mug on the counter and turned to go, but felt a tug stop her as Robin grabbed onto her arm and turned her back to him.

His face was unreadable as he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching, as if swallowing a lump in his throat. He didn't seem to know why he was holding onto her arm, as if he had done it by reaction or instinct instead of intent. He blindly groped for the counter with his other hand to set his mug down, never breaking eye contact. She looked at his masked eyes, her breathing growing faster the longer he kept hold of her arm. Her cup shattered on the counter but neither one of them turned toward it.

She felt the bond she had with Robin, the one established during his mental battle with Slade, practically vibrate like a violin string singing a note. It felt like he was drawing on it, trying to discern her emotional state and the thought that he would know what she was feeling terrified her. It could ruin everything if he was concerned about her feelings toward him being an issue during battle. He took a sharp intake of breath as if making a realization, and she pulled her arm free from him only to have him stand at full height, turn, and place both hands on the counter at either side of her effectively caging her between his arms.

"Maybe I need to give the tea another shot," he breathed, looking down at her.

She trembled, half thinking she was dreaming. But everything felt all too real when his lips pressed against hers. She tasted the cream and deep notes of the earl grey mixed with the strong tang and richness of the coffee and marveled that she could focus on such things while her lips were moving in response to his. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the sensations, hearing his mug shatter as well and finding that neither of them could care less even as his coffee mixed with her tea and pooled together to slip off the countertop in slow and steady drips. He stepped closer to her, his body pressing against hers as he deepened the kiss and she responded in kind opening herself up to him and pressing back against him.

His hands moved from the counter to her hips, pulling her even closer to him as she found her arms wrapping around his neck, her hands tangling in his hair. Their tongues danced with each other and he groaned into her mouth when she tightened her grip and pulled on his hair.

He broke their kiss after what may have been mere minutes or even seconds but what felt like an eternity and he rested his forehead against hers.

"Raven," he murmured, in between panting breaths.

He leaned down and she felt electricity hum down her spine as he whispered directly in her ear. "I have to say," he sighed, "tea tastes much better that way."

She laughed quietly and moaned as his lips trailed a line from her ear down the column of her neck, laying kisses and gentle nips in their wake.

"Funny," she breathed as he nibbled on the junction between her neck and her shoulder, "I was just going to say the same thing about coffee."


End file.
